This is our second ‘Rare Needull’, from the same blogger. In this short account, we get to know about his first visit to a red light district and leaves us with a lot to ponder on.
“Thank you khoka (son)”, the middle-aged lady smiled as she took the condom from me in one of the alleys. Despite being dark, she had smothered her face with powder and her black pan stained teeth were in direct contrast with her white face. It was the same woman I had seen a while ago tying the hair knots of her daughter.
I did not return the smile. In my heart, I was terribly angry at being called a ‘son’ by this plump woman, dressed funnily in a nightgown despite the sun being high up, and someone who let people do anything to her for a few hundred rupees.
One thought on “The Tree of Gold”
Powerful thoughts about sacrificial choices.